#dark steroline

Time travels at the speed of stars, silent and almost not moving at all. At least that's what it seems like to Caroline, since ... 'he' brought her here.

He told her she was still in Virginia. Silence echoed whenever she tried to gauge the specifics of where exactly in Virginia. They didn't converse much, because he liked to mostly sit in the silence and observe her, from his chair, which he's kept at a certain distance from her.

At first when she woke up in the dark it was terror incarnate to see him obscure, in silhouette sitting far away in his large wooden chair arms firmly planted by his sides watching her calmly, quietly without any explanation, as if it were all completely normal.

She knew than, right at that moment that she wasn't at home in her own bed with the hello kitty covers, the bed she was in was all white. The mattress was hard and the entire ensemble was just oddly cold. It didn't give her the sense of warmth or the safety her own home and bed has always offered.

He had sat in his chair right in the door frame, blocking the entrance, as far as possible from her. She instantly recognised his profile as she often in the past watched him when she coveted his attention. That was a long time ago.

Caroline learnt an important lesson that night in the dark, not to underestimate the reality of a nightmare that had a disturbing potential to be very, very real. But all of that came after her unrequited conversation with her 'company' about her apparent displacement from home. It was obviously distressing for her, the change of scenery and company; he probably knew it but didn't make any attempt to clear the dark cloud of confusion. Caroline was used to straight talk; she didn't like obscurity or vagueness unless she were dating. He only smiled disconcertingly at first when she demanded an answer for the unwanted intrusion in her sleep. When he shifted in the chair giving the illusion of coming closer she almost jumped a mile in the air. The action was small, fairly harmless. Yet her nerves felt tight when he moved ever so slightly to answer her, more so because the action had intended to elicit fear in her.

The answer to her question was more like an illusion of an answer. He did not say anything about where she was or why she was here, why he was watching her in the dark, only that panic served no purpose, that he would make her as comfortable as possible and not to worry about anything else. He also wanted her to adhere to a few rules like not calling him by his name, and avoid sudden movement if she woke to him sitting over there watching her, not to try and escape because she wouldn't make it if she tried and last but not least to accept that this disturbance was her life ...for a while. He didn't give her a time limit; she was too indignant and cold inside to ask. The inner chill came from feeling his eyes on her bare neck and arms as if she were a plate of special barbeque ribs.

She ignored the silly rules he cited to her completely serious and confident in his tone and took a less advisory route, of complete outrage and indignation. 'Stefan? What the hell are you doing? Why am I here?' She even almost got out of bed.

Even though her outrage was justified in the given setting, He had a somewhat violent reaction to it. Expression transforming from calm to something ...animal, snarling at her angrily, fangs peeked from under the curled upper lip and his eyes changed to a fiery blood red as he enunciated each word very clearly in a slightly more deadlier tone than before.

'You're here ...because I don't want to hurt you, but for that you will have to listen to me and not fight any of this, trust me Caroline...or you'll regret it' this time she heard him, sank back in bed and kept further questions to herself. He gave her a few minutes to digest the information, it did not compute or justify the absence of safety in her heart and mind, He had left her then, locked the door to the room that would be hers for 'some' time from the outside.

Even though the raw vampirism had almost stopped her heart, she still felt the need to ask him when he got up to leave if he had in fact changed her clothes, because she was wearing an oversized, sleeveless white shirt exposing the flesh of her arms and legs and not her own pyjamas which she found deeply unsettling. The nature of her stay was affecting her more than she had the courage to admit to him. He had only looked at her with a slightly amused smile then, his good humour suddenly restored. Not exactly the confidence inspiring denial she hoped to aspire to.

His answer when it came finally was small, hesitant, he sensed her extreme discomfort over it, as he appeared to have chosen his words carefully 'Yes' a long pause 'I did, but don't worry Caroline, I didn't touch you like that, that's not why you're here...understand that it was just...necessary, I really am sorry if it upsets you' What a guy.

He only paused long enough in the doorway before she completely dissolved into tears over what detail exactly even she wasn't sure. The click of the lock sealing her in darkness, The impromptu incarceration, inappropriate change of wardrobe, the lack of acceptable answers to questions she did not want to begin to ask or maybe the promise of pain from someone she has never considered dangerous at all.

Probably all of the above.

Yes, it was then, that first night she realized how naive she had been to always take nightmares and their potential to become real for granted.

============//////============

She is free to roam around sometimes during the day, because he comes only at nights. He started leaving her room unlocked after a few nights of her sobbing at his appearance on the chair in front of her, she tells him she doesn't think she can ever get used to the fright of waking up to the chilling darkness and him together, distant yet, hovering over her quietly, he accepts this response as completely natural. It chills more her from time to time that he's kept everything she would need in this small two bedroom tower, a well stocked fridge with everything she likes, a reading selection that she favours, even the shampoo and toothpaste she uses.

He must have watched her for days to know this much about her. She noticed the cynical, matter of fact change in his demeanour for the very first time during the Miss Mystic Falls competition when he asked her for a dance after they announced Elena as Miss Mystic Falls. She was feeling crappy because she knew they would choose her but decided to stick around and show she did not care about the unfairness, 'he' was there looking every bit detached and disarming, and oddly close in her personal space for being the appropriate one of all.

At one point while they danced she felt him take a deep intake of breath when he was close to her hair, neck...Yes, she thinks it's probably then he started watching her, taking note or her likes, dislikes the non-presence of her mother as the Sheriff and the little care her friends displayed for her general well being. Matt's indecisiveness on whether he wanted to bear the burden of dating a ditsy blonde like her.

All these factors played a larger role then she cared to admit to herself at the time.

'He' comes at nights and depending on his mood has lengthy conversations about his day with the others...Elena, Bonnie, Jeremy, Alaric and Damon. He doesn't mention Matt. It bothers her but she feels an invisible restraint asking him about Matt.

She tries to weasel her way out of the situation he has placed her in, tells him she can help him with his problem. He must have one if it's forced him to lock her up somewhere far away like this. She can get him help. The 'others' would understand she promises sincerely.

The disturbing grin that he gives her says it all. She thinks that she liked him better when he never really smiled much and only brooded in silence. It gives his personality a new dimension she has never bothered to be aware of, he's never showered this kind of psychologically damaging attention towards her before how could she guessed.

'Really you think you can help me Caroline? ...Do you know anything about addictions? Blood addictions...'

He says 'Blood' like it's a dirty, sinful little word, she feels her own face flush crimson with involuntary shame of it, and he stares her down so she averts her eyes and never talks about it again because his eyes stray to her neck too much and the heat of his obvious desire for her blood is overwhelmingly frightening to her.

He answers some of her questions sometimes, like the time she asked him how he came to own a place like this? How could he afford it? He answered her in a normal un-patronizing tone that he's lived for more than a century so he's got the money and resources to have a place like this. She asks childishly if Elena knows about any of these resources and he goes sour. She quickly shuts her mouth. When he's in a good mood he laughs at her cheek but whenever the topic of Elena rose between them he was all frowns and intensity. He looks at her with eyes mocking her unwanted disobedience but doesn't say anything. And yet she remains perfectly polite, when in reality she should tell him to stop being such a baby about it and man up to what he is doing to her.

To stop taking out his inability to deal with his blood addiction on her, this is not a vacation for her. Her mouth just can't find the right words to appease and dissuade him at the same time from continuing this mentally torturing routine he has set up for her with such care and gentleness. The soothing timbre of his voice when he speaks to her every time almost hurts her physically. She doesn't think she can take it much longer being his captive.

Problem was none of it was up to her really.

He starts talking about his problems with Elena when he finds Caroline semi conditioned to the routine of her waking up to him and not crying for once. His mood is dark, darker then the room and he avoids looking at her directly tonight when talking. The blood addiction is a cause of some unhappiness in their relationship; he thinks Elena is just not mature enough to understand what blood does to him. She feels he is changed as a person. He's been off of it so long that it obviously defined him a certain way, non-carnivores and overtly sensitive to humans, now that he's back on it, it's hard to explain how he needs the blood to be a part of him. He doesn't like that Elena judges him over it and as a result wants to take a break in their relationship until she's sure she can trust him.

She wanted to do something immature like say 'duh! You think?' but she didn't they had that kind of relationship, for now he was the only one playing the jokes on her.

He's angry with Elena about the 'trust' bit, Damon is becoming the new dependable guy in Elena's life and it makes him jealous even if he doesn't admit it in front of Caroline, she feels the jealousy dripping off of him in waves and the way he grinds his teeth when tells her how ironic it is that Damon came to be the one lecturing him on the dangers of falling into the live blood habit, recently.

Caroline wanted to tell 'him' that at least Damon was more predictable. She wasn't sure what she felt worse about... the brother who kept her to himself to keep biting her because he couldn't resist the blood or the brother who locks her up for himself to keep from giving into the temptation of drinking her blood at all. She's not sure she can't draw a clear comparison.

Caroline listens to 'him' carefully, objectivity is hard for her at this point as he continues to complain and tells him she regrettably agrees mostly with Elena, that makes him even more snarly. She continues a bit to hurriedly and tells him to come clean with Elena about his problem and let her 'help' him, Elena would take a chance on a dying alligator even for god's sake. 'Let's go to her together Stefan...I'll explain everything to Elena, I swear I really do understand' she gives him her best sympathetic smile and crosses her fingers that he buys it.

'He' smiles his own smile full of genuine understanding, it isn't the sincerity of her smile that he doubts he tells her it's her subjectivity to the entire thing he can't bring himself to trust. She's too biased for his liking and can't convince him to let her go yet.

'It's not time yet...And if you think Matt's out there looking for you then you're dreaming Caroline, no one is looking for you they all think you went to your fathers for a vacation after failing the Miss Mystic falls pageant...you're dad's on a cruise ship with his boyfriend no one ever thought to check it out, makes you think what kind of friends and family would you be going back to hmmm?' He reminds her with his words that he could easily be as cruel as comforting.

The intensity of her silence seems to lift his spirits from his own problems.

And then he leaves her again in a flood of angry tears. He tells he would like to comfort her but it meant physical touch and she might not be quite ready for that yet.

She agrees and thinks she told him in mid sobs to 'drop dead' and he laughed...obviously.

She understands now why she is here. He wants to build a resistance to the blood addiction. She is his resistance, his nicotine patch or something. This is why he can't let her go yet, this is how he ascertains that he's not a danger to everyone else around him, except for her.

It makes her shudder even in the warmth of a hot shower how well she understands his mind, the idea of her being his captive alone must give him a tremendous rush of complete power over her helplessness to do anything about it, it was the very thing vampires enjoyed isn't it? The very core of human fear, even though he hasn't laid a hand on her, the promise of an impending caress and bite is very real and he knew it.

He could hurt her if he wanted; he was just savouring the idea of it. It was probably what kept him from rampaging around the town and killing everyone else. He was trying to make everyone else comfortable with his controlled blood lust so that they would trust him.

So 'he' needed her to trust him first.

'What happens when you can't resist the urge anymore...if you have a bad day?' she asks plaintively once, He's silent for a long time drawing patterns with his fingers on the arms of the chair fully attentive vocally to her, she thinks he shrugged nonchalantly once and told her it was not her concern yet. He made a promise and he intended to keep it.

She tells him she doesn't remember what he promised her, he never made any actual promises.

'Exactly...' he says snapping at her, it's so quite suddenly that she thinks she might start giggling inappropriately. She doesn't, because it's got nothing to do with amusement. She thinks he might be trying to undo her mind before anything else.

Which was a large cause of concern to her obviously, her own mental health. For that reason she felt that she owed it to the already fragile sate of her mind to at least try and make a run for it when an opportunity arose.

An opportunity had risen.

'He' was taking Elena away for a small trip for their anniversary, which meant they were going to be gone for two maybe three days at the most. Three days in a row he wouldn't come over to check on her and she had the entire prison to herself to die trying to hatch an escape plan. She planned to take the place apart, find a trap door or a false ceiling or something to get out. Her enthusiasm was burgeoning the night he came to her before the trip; she tried very hard to cover it up.

Shouldn't have been hard considering it was always dark when he came and yet he not only noticed amusedly but also pointed it out to her.

'Be good... ' was all he said in a way of a warning before leaving.

She only smiled to herself when he was gone.

She wasn't quite sure what she'd expected to find, a trap door leading to the outside world, a ceiling that popped opened when you knocked on it? Floor boards that came out with a little prying action?

The walls and floors were stone mostly; it was old and too hard for any kind of prying, the ceiling was way too strong for her to even try and break through out of, nothing in the entire place had sharp edges to use as a digging or carving tool. All she had to say for her naivety was that she's watched too many believable crime thrillers and now knew first hand not to be this gullible ever again.

Well, she might never get a chance, the place was a mess, and she had taken the bed apart thrown the mattress aside, everything else he had brought for her, she'd strewn around just for the heck of it, in defiance. But then, last night in her euphoria over being granted an opportunity to escape she spared only a millisecond of thought over what her fate might come to in case she didn't make it and the impression of general freedom only lasted a few hours until she realized the prison 'he' brought her to was virtually indestructible.

She hated now to think of what would happen if he got back and she was still here with the mess she's created. Her confidence faltered even lower when the sun started going down, already a day was almost gone. The dying rays of sunlight through the only window in the prison caught 'his' chair in her room and gave off a glint of hope.

She bashed the damn chair against the small window, apparently it was necro-tempered and bullet proof 'he' told her once, and she believed 'him' now since she did not manage to make a single dent the first ten times that she violently beat his chair against it.

The chair was heavy for her to lift and strong like the rest of the prison , she focused all her energy and rage towards 'him' on the window and 'his' chair, it didn't break easy but the window started developing very small cracks that were slowly and at the expense of her diminishing energy, intensifying.

She had to rest in between, have a drink of water, use the bathroom and catch her raging breath once in a while.

They made it look so easy in the movies, she swore if she ever got out she would never watch another ridiculous crime thriller that assured you escape was always an option for the protagonist and lulled you into a false sense of security. She just wouldn't.

She sleeps through rest of the night emotional and physical energy completely spent.

The cracks have gotten bigger, and she's broken his chair in half, her hands are covered with splinters from the wood breaking. She's employed the help of the chair legs now to finish the job even as her entire form is trembling in pain.

She knows she can get there if she gives the window another fifty blows at a constant momentum, unsure of how much time she had to herself there wasn't much sense in stopping for a break today so she sobbed with determination to not stop until the window had damn near shattered.

The elation at the window breaking into a hundred different pieces lasted for only a few seconds until she eagerly stuck her head out in the open air and observed her surroundings. Her prison was encased in dense foliage, and when she looked down it occurred to her that her captor has been around for over a century and carefully planned her captivity to his convenience only and not hers.

The ground was nowhere in sight to her, now she understood why he referred to her prison as 'the tower' because she was on something resembling a mountain she could probably not climb down without the danger of free falling and landing splat god knew how many feet below. There was too much foliage covering the entire prison to see clearly what lay beneath the mountain.

She guessed he didn't need a bunch of stairs to get here. Now she knew how Rapunzel must have felt, the only word suiting her sentiments right now was 'shit'.

Giving up was never a phrase Caroline let herself get familiar with, even if the odds were clearly stacked against her, she would still give the 'escape' a go.

There were three sets of white sheets Caroline had knotted together firmly to act like a rope in her first mountain climbing lesson. She tied one end to the legs of her bed which she had incidentally managed to drag all the way to the window. All that was left to do was to tie the other end around her waist and try to get a firm gripping on something while she got herself out of the window.

She catches her hand against a jagged edge of the window she wasn't able to scrape away, the glass was thick and the cut she gets is deep, she ignores it because the adrenaline rush is keeping her going for now.

Even with the list of doubts running through her mind like what if her rope was too small, how would she find her way home, what if it was too dark before she could get all the way down, what she had ruled out to consider was that even in the movies the possibility of the escapee being captured before an actual escape was pretty near real because as she sat at the window and prepared to jump out of it, a still figure in the doorway of her bedroom distracted her.

'So, how's it going?...' She has no idea of how long 'he's' been standing there watching her, she feels too ashamed to ask.

'You're back early?' she asks him hoping this was an actual nightmare and not real.

'There was a family emergency, Jeremy developed appendicitis and Elena wanted to go back home and look after him...plus there was a sensor on your window which activated in case of a disturbance'

Ah, so no such luck then.

She's so startled because of 'his' neutral tone and calm demeanour, leaning against the doorframe watching her with an avid interest that she loses her footing and falls...outside.

Before she can go too free falling he's quick to catch her and make shift rope holds her weight; he pulls her up using the sheets ignoring any of her small protests, the sheets tear at constant friction with the jagged edges of the window. The emotional pain of the moment as he drags her form back inside is very real. Her face is wet with tears and she feels inconsolable anger at him for doing this to her.

She only managed to plead with him uselessly as he drags her using both her arms back to her room and throws her on the cold floor hard, before she can move he slams the door shut and locks it, leaving her to pound at the door with her fists, half sobbing, mostly screaming obscenities at him to let her out.

'Stefan please, don't do this to me! ...Don't!'

He was still there on the other side of the door, she can feel him but he never answers her.

Caroline loses consciousness after another ten minutes of kicking at the locked door, the wound on her hand has lost her considerable amount of blood and possibly the reason she fades into sudden blackness.

The last thing she hears before she passes out is something she doesn't expect herself to say 'I'm sorry...please don't let me die'